More Than a Rogue Read online

  More than a Rogue

  Sophie Barnes

  Contents

  Also by Sophie Barnes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2019 by Sophie Barnes

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design and Interior Formatting by The Killion Group, Inc.

  www.thekilliongroupinc.com

  Also by Sophie Barnes

  Novels

  More Than A Rogue

  The Infamous Duchess

  No Ordinary Duke

  The Illegitimate Duke

  The Girl Who Stepped Into The Past

  The Duke of Her Desire

  Christmas at Thorncliff Manor

  A Most Unlikely Duke

  His Scandalous Kiss

  The Earl’s Complete Surrender

  Lady Sarah’s Sinful Desires

  The Danger in Tempting an Earl

  The Scandal in Kissing an Heir

  The Trouble with Being a Duke

  The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda

  There’s Something About Lady Mary

  Lady Alexandra’s Excellent Adventure

  How Miss Rutherford Got Her Groove Back

  * * *

  Novellas

  When Love Leads To Scandal

  Miss Compton’s Christmas Romance

  The Duke Who Came To Town

  The Earl Who Loved Her

  The Governess Who Captured His Heart

  Mistletoe Magic (from Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection)

  1

  Camberly House was filled to capacity with guests who’d come to attend the first ball of the Season, their boisterous chatter akin to the twittering of birds. The downstairs rooms had been opened up to facilitate movement between them and to let the air circulate. Only the library and the Duke of Camberly’s study had been closed off for the evening. Emily had found the doors securely locked when she’d checked, which was why she’d chosen to escape the stuffy ballroom and her overbearing mother by seeking refuge in the parlor.

  It wasn’t ideal, but she could at least have a seat on the sofa and rest her feet for a moment. A wistful smile tugged at her lips. During the six years she’d spent tucked away in the countryside with her friends, Lady Cassandra Moore and Mary Clemens, who was now the Duchess of Camberly, she’d never believed she would ever return to Society. And certainly not like this, with no short supply of gentlemen eager to dance with her.

  There was no question in her mind that her altered appearance was to blame for her newfound popularity, a superficiality that seemed more important than her age at this point. At six and twenty, she knew she was not the young debutante most gentlemen would consider when seeking a bride. Clearly, the only thing that held their interest was her transformation from a podgy girl whose mother had always insisted on an overabundance of frills and lace in bright shades of orange and yellow, to a woman with curves in just the right places.

  “There you are,” Cassandra said as she entered the room and came to sit beside Emily. She’d brought Mary with her, and she claimed the armchair adjacent to the sofa.

  “I just need a brief reprieve,” Emily said.

  “You’re not the only one,” Mary told her as she flopped back most inelegantly against her chair. Emily knew Mary had never wanted to be a duchess, but when she’d fallen in love with Caleb Crawford, she’d had to accept the position in order to marry him. “Had I been able to avoid this circus I would have, but Caleb’s mother has been so eager to entertain, and well…she is a lovely woman and now that a year has passed since her husband and oldest son died, I could not deny her the pleasure of bringing Camberly House back to life.”

  “You are a good daughter-in-law,” Emily said, “and you must not misunderstand me. I am glad to be here this evening, though I do wish my mother would stop chasing me around the room and inquiring about every man I happen to speak with.”

  Cassandra smirked. “She probably sees a new opportunity to get you settled.”

  “Which is understandable,” Mary said with a mischievous smile. “You’ve managed to take attention away from some very unhappy young ladies.”

  Emily sighed. “I had forgotten how tiring her eagerness can be. She is once again pushing me toward a goal I have no hope of achieving.” She glanced at each of her friends. “These men might like what they see when they glance my way, but they will not court a spinster whose dowry has been redistributed to her sister.”

  Mary frowned. “You always claimed you had no interest in courtship and yet—”

  “So did you,” Cassandra murmured.

  “Well, yes, but then I met Caleb and all of that changed.” Mary’s eyes took on the faraway look of complete contentment that filled her gaze when she thought of her husband.

  “It is not so much the courtship I care about,” Emily confided. “It is the romance.”

  “The romance?” both her friends asked in wonder.

  Emily drew a deep breath. “I don’t even know what it’s like to be kissed by a man.”

  Cassandra and Mary both stared at her for a long drawn-out moment. Then Cassandra said, “We should try to find a way in which to change that.”

  The statement and what it suggested would have been shocking if it had been uttered by anyone else. But this was Cassandra, a woman who’d loved her fiancé so much she’d chosen to bed him before their wedding. But then he’d died on the way to the church in a terrible carriage accident, leaving Cassandra heartbroken, pregnant, and ruined. She’d left London almost immediately, assisted by her brother, Viscount Aldridge, who’d set her up in a large country house named Clearview. Mary and Emily had eventually joined her, and together they’d found a new purpose by offering orphaned children a home filled with love and happiness. “How?” Emily asked. “By luring some poor unsuspecting man into a dark corner?” She shook her head. “I’ve no desire to trap anyone.”

  Mary’s lips twisted in thought. “Perhaps there’s a man out there,” she nodded in the direction of the ballroom, “who’s willing to oblige without having to be lured.”

  “What if we start by considering the men you would like to share the experience with,” Cassandra suggested as if they were simply speaking of trying an ice for the very first time. “There must be someone to whom you are drawn?”

  Emily pretended to consider, even though Cass was right. There was one particular gentleman who made her heart flutter – a man she dreamed of in those quiet moments before sleep claimed her. She just didn’t want to share the fact with anyone, for she feared that if she kissed him, she might never recover once he left England. And he would leave. She’d heard him discussing the matter with his family and friends. Indeed, she recalled him saying quite clearly that nothing would keep him from returning to Vienna as soon as possible.

  Determined to keep her secret close to her heart, Emily shook her head. “Even if there were, if someone caught me kissing a man to whom I am unatt
ached, Laura’s chance of finding a husband would be even more ruined than it already is,” she said in reference to her youngest sister who’d made her debut the previous year. It pained Emily more than anything, knowing that her hasty choice to leave home in the wake of her broken attachment to Lord Langdon remained a blemish on Laura’s reputation. No respectable gentleman would consider marrying a woman whose sister was rumored to live in sin, no matter her sizeable dowry. The risk of scandal was simply too great. “If anything, it will only make things worse.”

  “So then we will simply have to ensure that you’re not discovered,” Mary said.

  Emily gaped at her friend. “Are we really having this conversation, or have I taken a hit to the head?”

  Both women stared back at her, unblinking.

  “This is a serious matter,” Cassandra eventually said. “It is important for us to discuss it and to take every option into consideration. Or would you rather go to your grave without ever knowing what it’s like to be kissed?”

  “My intention to perish from this earth is far from imminent,” Emily grumbled. “I daresay I have a few decades in which to accomplish the feat.”

  Mary looked at her as if she’d just said that she meant to go off and join the circus. “Better sooner rather than later,” she told Emily dryly. “The older you get, the more difficult it will be to find a man who’s willing to accommodate you.”

  “She’s right,” Cassandra said gravely. “But I understand the concern you have for your sister’s wellbeing.”

  “We both do,” Mary added. “Which is why this kissing business would likely be best accomplished somewhere else. Away from London society.”

  “Like at Clearview…” Cassandra let the idea hang in the air.

  Emily snorted. “The trouble with that suggestion is having an agreeable gentleman stop by and offer his…ahem…services.”

  Mary’s eyes sparkled. “Caleb did.”

  Emily and Cassandra were forced to smother their laughter when other guests entered the room at that moment. The newcomers glanced their way briefly before claiming the seating arrangement in the opposite corner.

  “Yes, but what are the chances of that ever happening again?” Emily whispered. She shook her head. “I know you’re both trying to help and I thank you for it.” Their willingness to facilitate an illicit kiss between her and some unknown man for the sole purpose of satisfying her curiosity meant the world to her.

  “Perhaps we should put an advertisement in the paper for a new caretaker,” Cassandra suggested.

  Emily turned to her. “You’re terrible.”

  Cassandra shrugged. “I’m merely looking out for your best interests.”

  “And who knows,” Mary said, “he might just turn out to be a duke in disguise.”

  Emily met Mary’s gaze. “Only one of us could be so lucky.” She smiled. “Thank you. Both of you. But I’m actually not sure I’d like my first and possibly only kiss to be with a man whose been procured for that purpose alone.”

  “Well, if you change your mind,” Cassandra said, “you must let us know.”

  Emily promised to do so even though she knew that would never happen. If she kissed a man, she wanted it to happen naturally and because he wanted to kiss her as much as she wanted to kiss him.

  This certainty grew when she returned to the ballroom and cast her gaze on the dancers. The cotillion reminded her of Lord Langdon, the man she’d once believed she would marry. He’d courted her for nearly a month, had made her feel special and wanted in spite of her less-than-perfect figure. Until he’d called things off by announcing his engagement to Lady Victoria Hewitt.

  She’d never figured out exactly what happened, except that her mother, Georgina, was somehow to blame for Langdon’s change of mind. There could be no doubt since it had occurred immediately after Georgina had gone to ‘discuss a few things’ with him. And then, as if that hadn’t been bad enough, her mother had made a spectacle of herself later by confronting Langdon openly at the Dawset Ball, immediately after he’d announced his betrothal. This, coupled with the mocking comments other young ladies her age had made at the time about Emily not being good enough for Langdon anyway, had compounded her shame.

  Emily had left London the very next day, unable to bear the humiliation or the pain. And as the days had turned into weeks, months, and eventually years, returning to London had become increasingly impossible. More so because of the happiness she’d found at Clearview. There, she could be herself without the fear of censure and without always worrying about the opinion of others. There, she’d found the true friendships she’d always lacked in London.

  Now, watching the dancing couples twirling about with smiles on their faces, she supposed Langdon must have realized that she wasn’t countess material and that marrying the daughter of a tradesman would not have been wise in the end, even if he did desire the dowry her father had bestowed upon her. Emily’s heart still ached, though not because of any lingering affection toward Langdon but because he was proof of how naïve she’d once been. To think that she’d thought he’d actually liked her for herself. It seemed so silly now, in retrospect.

  “I wonder if there is still room on your dance card,” a low voice spoke at her right shoulder.

  Emily glanced up to see one of Camberly’s friends, Mr. Bale, regarding her with expectation. “I’m afraid not,” she told him since she had no further desire to dance. And then, seeing disappointment in his eyes, she hastened to say, “But some fresh air would be most appreciated.”

  His face lit up. “Allow me to escort you outside.”

  She accepted the arm he offered and the welcome distraction from the shattered hopes and dreams of her past. Mr. Bale was a handsome man and quite unattached. If he wanted to keep her company, she would not say no.

  Griffin Nathaniel Finnegan Crawford stood in one corner of the crowded ballroom, conversing with his brother, Caleb, and Caleb’s friend, Viscount Aldridge.

  “I cannot wait for this Season to be over so Mary and I can return to Montvale,” Caleb said. The couple had decided to build a cottage for themselves on the Montvale grounds so they could enjoy a simple life while away in the country. The manor itself would be turned into an orphanage so Mary could continue caring for children in need.

  “It has only just begun,” Griffin remarked. Contrary to his brother, he missed the busy city life whenever he was away from it. He missed Vienna, with its culture and music and picturesque streets. By comparison, London felt like a grimy slum.

  “And it will only get busier once parliament is in full swing,” Aldridge said.

  “Don’t remind me.” Caleb crossed his arms. He glanced at Griffin. “At least Devlin had the foresight to escape while he could.”

  Devlin was the third brother, born only five minutes after Griffin. All three were identical in appearance save for a few slight differences between them. But Caleb was the oldest, so he’d been the one burdened with the dukedom when their father and older brother had died. It was a responsibility Griffin didn’t envy, though he admired Caleb’s effort to find a balance between his duty and a less demanding existence. Mary’s love and support had undoubtedly helped.

  “I plan to do so as well,” Griffin said. “I’ve already been away from my place of business longer than I ever intended.” Years ago, when he’d first left England after arguing with their father about not wanting to join the army, he’d gone to Germany where a chance encounter with a man in a tavern had put him in touch with a clockmaker named Herr Fritz.

  Intrigued by Herr Fritz’s craftsmanship, Griffin had inquired about a position and had quickly become the man’s apprentice. Seven years later, when Herr Fritz had retired, Griffin had travelled to Vienna where he’d opened his own shop, selling not only clocks but mechanical toys to the marvel of all his customers.

  “Who’s managing it right now while you’re here?” Aldridge asked.

  “My assistant, Edvard Dreyden.” He was a serious and hard-worki
ng young man whom Griffin trusted to run things until he returned. But Griffin had to acknowledge that his extended stay in England was pushing the limit of how long he could afford to be absent. In Edvard’s most recent letter, he’d informed Griffin that the archduchess Marie Anne wished to place a special order, though only if Griffin himself was available to carry it out.

  “If only you could relocate here,” Caleb said. “I’ve enjoyed your company immensely and will be sorry to see you go.”

  “Yes, but you have a home to build now, a wife to take care of, and a child on the way.” Griffin snatched a glass of champagne from a passing tray and took a quick sip. “You’ll hardly notice I’m gone.”

  “And you can come back to visit,” Aldridge pointed out.

  “Or you could all come to Vienna,” Griffin suggested while glancing across the room.

  A flash of blue caught his eye, and he followed the movement until a familiar face appeared from behind a cluster of guests. It was Miss Emily Howard, a close friend of Mary’s. Griffin had met her a few times already, most notably at Clearview when he’d gone in search of his brother back in November. She’d stolen his breath once she’d opened the door to admit him, for he had not been expecting to find the most beautiful woman in the world when Aldridge had told him where Caleb had gone.

  He narrowed his gaze as she exited onto the terrace, escorted by Mr. Bale, who grinned in response to something she said. An uncomfortable squeezing sensation beneath his ribs had him straightening his posture. He didn’t like the way Mr. Bale’s eyes gleamed with the prospect of something illicit.

  “If you’ll excuse me one moment,” Griffin told his brother and Aldridge. “There’s someone with whom I must speak.” Mr. Bale had always struck him as an amicable fellow. Harmless, by all accounts. But appearances could be deceiving. He’d learned that by falling victim himself to the cruelest form of trickery. Setting his glass on a table as he went, Griffin wove his way through the crowd. By the time he reached the door to the terrace and stepped outside, neither Miss Howard nor Mr. Bale was anywhere to be found. Griffin’s stomach tightened. Surely she would have more sense than to wander off with a bachelor? He glanced around, uncertain of where to look for her first. Voices emerged from the left, so he followed, heading straight for the corner where a cherry tree offered a canopy to the bench that stood beneath it.